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The Art of the Soju Bottle: Nami Island and Misc. Photoglut

Being on the other side of some 15,000 miles of travel and about two full days inside of airports, I’m a little bagged. I have a lot to say about my sudden and unfortunately occasioned return to my hometown, but I need to rein it in for a few days and allow the words to percolate, to somehow find the sweet-spot between embarrassingly heart-sleeved, too-soon self-analysis, and the slavish self-deprecation humour that I like to think I specialize in. As usual, I stall with photographs. Not long before I went to Toronto, I went to Nami Island, a little romance hotspot for Koreans because of a popular K-drama, and also weird hub of public, green art. And before before that, I did some other things. Bask in the glory of my life, and also a weird Korean chihuahua-squirrel thing.

Tony, hard at work on that paper thing we keep doing:

Nancy who, as she was quick to point out, appears to be a floating severed head.

Two photos of the weird bat-squirrel thing, really Michael? To which I respond: you should see how many linger on my memory card. I kept creeping closer to this little bastard over about ten minutes, scooting while in squat position while a Korean family of picnickers nearby tossed him morsels. Eventually I was able to capture him sufficiently, especially when he found the abandoned sticky bun and vivisected it before scampering off to the woods.

And finally, this photo of the duck from before the jump. While playing around with the settings in GIMP, one button decided to produce the following alternate reality where the duck lives in an operatic dystopia and is the lonely survivor.

As always, click on any photo to be whisked away to my Flickr, wherein one might gaze upon the relics of my life at your leisure, without all these words getting in the way.